


how to do the most you can with what you have when what you have is nothing

by fauchevalent



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, hey real talk? these kids JUMP into things pls don't fuck ur hitchhiker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-06
Updated: 2017-06-06
Packaged: 2018-11-09 16:05:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11108028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fauchevalent/pseuds/fauchevalent
Summary: "Rough day?"She gives a wet laugh."You could say that, yeah."or - a runaway bride au.





	how to do the most you can with what you have when what you have is nothing

**Author's Note:**

> i don't own cr and also pls don't follow these kids' example and fuck ur hitchhiker that's a bad call

He's driving past the water tower when he sees her, all lace and taffeta hiked up around her knees and a veil tossed beside her in the grass.   
Percy has the fleeting thought that she might actually want to be left alone, but then her thumb flicks into the air and he pulls over. He doesn't usually pick up hitchhikers - especially not ones with such clear emotional baggage - but hey, there's a first time for everything, right? Or at least, that's what he tells himself as she climbs into his passenger seat, veil still discarded on the ground, and offers him a gentle smile.

"Thanks."

He nods. With closer inspection, he also finds tear tracks, lightly blackened by mascara, and patches of dirt and grass stain across the skirt of her gown. Percy presses his foot against the gas pedal.

"Rough day?"

She gives a wet laugh. 

"You could say that, yeah."

As he turns past the water tower, she starts fiddling with buckles and straps around her waist - shortly thereafter, he finds himself sitting beside a woman in only a corset and garters. She throws the skirt in the backseat and leans back, seemingly relaxed.  
Percy is definitely not relaxed. If there has ever been a moment to not be chill, it's right now, with a very attractive half naked woman stretched out beside him. He takes a deep breath, garnering her attention, and she makes a little questioning hum in the back of her throat.  
He gestures to her bare thighs with his chin, attempting to be at least a little bit gentlemanly and keep his eyes on the road the whole time, and she snorts.

"Trust me, I'd rather some stranger see me naked then my  _fiance_ -" the word comes out of her mouth chock full of bile - "you're fine, darling."

"Percy."

"What?"

"My name is Percy. Or, technically, Percival Fredrickstein Von Mussel Klossowski de Rolo the third - but that seems like a mouthful for a woman who's sitting beside me in what is essentially some very fancy underwear."

He can see her smirk out of the corner of his eye and he matches it easily.

"Vex'ahlia." She responds. "Or Vex, then I suppose, since I am in this very fancy underwear."

Percy tests the full name out on his tongue and she startles a little. "Oh."

"Oh?" He asks, just to draw out this intriguing interaction, and she bites her lip. 

"I'm gonna tell you this in confidence, as a stranger in fancy underwear sitting in your passenger seat - that was  _very_ hot."

He chuckles and she presses cool fingertips against his bare arm, gives a gentle shove. "I told you that in underpants confidence, Percival," she says, low and teasing, and -  _oh_.   
Oh, so that's what she meant. Something pleasant settles in his stomach at the sound and he freezes for a beat too long, because Vex grins like the cat that got the canary.  
In the ensuing silence, as Percy twists around dirt roads and wills his ears to cool down, he realizes he picked up a hitchhiker and is just sort of... taking her back to his house. Vex hasn't seemed to mind as of yet, he notes, so maybe she lives around here too? His fingers start to fidget against the leather of his steering wheel and he catches her eye in his periphery. 

"Where are you interested in...  _going_ , exactly?"

Vex frowns, a little thrown by the question.

"Anywhere but that church." She answers resolutely, after a minute or two.

It is just about then, as Vex's gaze settles on the outline of forget-me-nots peeking out of Percy's collar, and he attempts to settle his on the open road (and not on Vex, all lace and skin and ribbons), that Percy thinks to ask.

"You know, not many brides run away."

It's intoned less like a statement and more like an open ended question - hopefully less like interrogation and more like conversation. Vex smiles ruefully.

"I'm not most brides."

It's not really an answer, or at least, not the one he's looking for, so he tries a different approach.

"I'm a prop maker."

Vex quirks an eyebrow, turns a head full of perfectly barreled curls his way.

"I just figure, if you're not going to talk, I might as well. I make props - weapons, mostly - a lot of them go to movie sets and museums interested in replicas. I, uh, I live alone. I have one sister left, but she's at university, so she's in another state right now -"

"Which one?" Vex asks, and he furrows his eyebrows. "Which state?" She clarifies.

"California." He tells her. "Stanford."

Vex whistles, impressed, but does not make a move to continue the conversation, so Percy pushes on.

"I'd like more tattoos, but I never find just the right design. You probably saw the, uh, forget-me-nots." He lifts one hand off the wheel, taps his chest where they rest. "There's seven of them. One for each of them." He doesn't elaborate, but Vex's eyes curl in thoughtfulness, not pity, so he thinks she understands.

"I kept trying to run away." She says, voice quiet, and Percy knows what she means. "But he wouldn't let me. Isn't that silly? You always see the people on TV, or read the news stories, and think  _no. I'd get out. I would know better_. But in reality, you just... don't."

Percy frowns. "It isn't about knowing better." He says, and Vex gives a wet laugh, running her palms along her face.

"Sure it is, Percival. My brother tried to get me out twice and both times I thought I knew better, thought Saundor was just  _having a rough patch_. That he loved me. Eventually Vax just started supporting me instead of trying to get me out - money, time out of the house, vacations with him and his wife - but here's the thing about coming back to someone who wants to keep you there, darling - they make you feel like you've wronged them for doing the littlest thing. It got to be so bad that he wouldn't let me out to walk Trinket the last few weeks before the wedding. I needed to be punished, I guess."

Percy stops the car.

"Vex'ahlia," he says gently, "you didn't deserve it. I've just met you, and I guarantee you didn't deserve a moment of it, and that it wasn't your fault, and that you got out when you could, even if it took you longer than you wanted it to. I  _guarantee you_ , you did not do wrong."

"You sound like a therapist." She says, an attempt at lightening the mood, and Percy tilts himself so he's facing her, a solemn expression painting his face.

"I'm very familiar with the profession." He tells her, pausing only a moment before he unbuttons his shirt. The first thing Vex notices is the full tattoo of the flowers, an outline of black, stark against his skin. The next thing she notices is the burn mark, sharp and shining where it's healed over. "Here's the thing about abuse, Vex'ahlia," he says, his voice shaking, and here they are, two fucking half naked strangers in a car, pouring out their souls to each other, "it is  _never_ the victim's fault. And I'm still learning that, and I know it's hard as hell to remember, but you? Did not deserve whatever happened to you."

Vex reaches out, touches it - only doctors have touched the scar since he's gotten it, and Vex's touch is different - empathetic and gentle, fingers shaking and cold. "You didn't need to be punished," he tells her, letting her press her fingertips to the skin. 

"You didn't either." She murmurs, and Percy honest-to-god  _smiles_ at that, this random hitchhiking runaway bride telling him he didn't deserve his trauma.

They're about a block from Percy's house, shivering and blinking and having what Percy might classify as an actual therapeutic experience, and he grins, readjusting himself to drive as Vex turns back into her seat, both quiet and uncertain, but strangely happy.

"My house is nearby," Percy informs her, softly, "if you wanted to..."

"Why, Percy, are you propositioning me?"

God, he's wanted to kiss her since she got in this car, and even more since she bared her fucking soul to him, but no, he's being a gentleman. Curse his good manners. "For some coffee, certainly. Maybe some clean clothes."

She smiles, the same sort of smile he got when he let her in the car, except now it seems more real. "Mm. I think I'd like that."

* * *

 

"Holy fuck, Percival," are the first words Vex says as she climbs out of the car, examining the cottage. It's sort of bare bones and minimalist, just the way Percy likes it, but he also recognizes it's a pretty big house for one dude who admitted to never having anyone over. He smiles.

"Too much?"

"It's so... cute?" Is not the response he expects, awed and soft as she touches the kitschy bird wreath on his door. "Cute, gentlemanly, dark past. You've got layers."

He chuckles and unlocks the door, letting her in first. Percy is only  _slightly_ ashamed to admit that he watches the way she sways as she walks, sauntering into his kitchen like she owns it, and examines the interior of the house for only a moment before turning to Percy and saying, "I believe I was promised some coffee."

"I believe you were also promised some pants." He digs around in his clean laundry bin for a few seconds, and holds up the only pants like thing he can find, which are a pair of boxers, blue and probably from a Calvin Klein set from Cass. "This is all I -" In the actual .5 seconds his back has been turned, Vex has stripped down to just her underpants, corset and stockings dropped to his floor and heels unbuckled beside. She outstretches a hand.

"Come on, then. Don't make this harder than it has to be, darling." 

This random woman is going to be the fucking death of him. He's effectively frozen in place by her actions, boxers clutched in his hand, and Vex huffs out a sigh, crossing the room and reaching for them with a smirk. "Thank you."

When the moment finally breaks and Vex is standing there, shoeless and topless and in his underwear, he nearly has a second conniption, which isn't helped by Vex tapping his chest and kissing him on the cheek. "Thank you, darling." She repeats, and Percy nods.

"You're welcome."

* * *

 

It isn't long into coffee before Percy decides he's completely enamored with Vex'ahlia. He considers telling her this, sipping the dregs of his cup as she finishes hers, and abruptly realizes he's only known the woman for three hours.

He means to keep this realization to himself. 

"Holy fuck."

He doesn't.

Vex's eyebrow arcs in amusement. "Care to share with the class, darling?"

"We were exchanging tragic backstories in my car. I haven't even gone out to breakfast with anyone in a year. And - and I've seen more of your body then I've seen of my last girlfriend's, and that's probably because she left me for Cass once I left university -" Vex snorts and Percy grins. "And I don't think I've ever been more intrigued by a woman I've met three hours earlier. Or a woman, ever. Or anyone, period." Her face softens and he can see her fiddling with the top of his boxers. "I think the only people who know even a fragment of my Ripley story are Cass or dead."

Vex makes the connections, he assumes - she is the first non de Rolo to hear about his abuse, and that is important to him - because she stands up after he says this and squats beside him.

"Ripley is a stupid name," she tells him, and he grins. "So's Saundor," he tells her, and she grins.

She kisses him. 

Percy's hands play with the hem of the boxers and Vex's hands curl around his chin. When they break apart, they are considerably closer and Percy is still holding onto the boxers.

"These look good on you," he murmurs, and Vex throws back her head in a laugh, so he nips his way up her neck. She gasps and kisses him again, hard. 

"My brother would call this a bad decision." She tells him, pressing her lips where Percy's jaw meets his ear.

"So would my sister." He agrees, pulling her closer. "But I think these might be good decisions -  _ah_ \- considering our track records."

Vex giggles and he chuckles and both of them vibrate against each other, empty coffee cups forgotten. She unbuttons his shirt and gets to work on marking his shoulder, her arms wrapping loosely around his neck. 

"I think," she says, humming appreciatively between words, "I might just start hitchhiking more often."


End file.
